Silence
by ReaperTot
Summary: His blue body only stirred slightly as he was thrown onto the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years.Ten years that he would be the Governments lapdog. Ten years until he would gain back his freedom.AU
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**- I don't own X-men Evolution or its characters.(duh, thats why its called fanfiction)

Humans are strange creatures. They are intelligent beyond imagination and have the potential to do almost anything. They have built some of the greatest structures on earth, cured deadly diseases, and have built weapons that can destroy cities in mere minutes. They can feel emotions that can over power their senses and make them do odd things. They can love, laugh, and hate.  
However, most humans are corrupt. They fear what they do not understand, and therefor, shun it. They seek only what they consider _'normal'_, and nothing more.

It is for this reason that when humans were confronted with the issue of 'mutants', they had mixed feelings. Some wished to hunt them down, claiming that they were the work of the devil. That they had no right to live. While others argued that they were human, just as they were

Countries and governments were divided, throwing their opinions and beliefs around until compromises were made. Each country had its own laws and restrictions to mutants. Some let the mutants live peacefully among the humans, with laws against using their powers to harm anyone. Allowed to go to school, get average jobs, and be treated equal in their communities. These mutants lived content.

Other countries though, hunted down all known mutants, killing or enslaving them as they tried to travel to free countries. Some were offered jobs in the military, while some were forced into it. The mutants of these countries either lived in hiding for all their lives, or learned to kill for the government before they hit puberty. These mutants lived in hell.

And it is in one such country that a small six year old child was dragged away from his adoptive family, screaming German pleas of help . Inhuman wails rang through the air that night as German government officials pulled the child from his home. The child's small body struggled and writhed, twisting in unimaginable angles as he tried to get away. His long, spaded tail thrashing in defiance and fear until another man grabbed it. Though small, he knew who these people were, and why they were taking him away. He knew what he was.

Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he was thrown into the back of an armored car. He landed hard, immediately feeling pain surge through him. He heard the door behind him shut and lock, leaving him alone in the darkness. The child curled up on the cold metal floor, trying to find warmth within the fine fur that covered his body. Sobs racked his body, as emotions poured out of him in his tears. He cried himself into a deep sleep that night, exhausted and pained.

He didn't awaken when the men roughly pulled him up from the floor, carrying his limp body into a secluded building. He was unaware of the black metal collar that was strapped around his neck. He only stirred slightly as he was thrown roughly on to the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years.


	2. NachtKriechen

The dull caress of slumber began to loosen in grips, sliding away from him silently. It was cast away as brightness was forced into the dark cells of Sector Seven, informing the occupants to awaken. It wasn't met with any groan of protest or pleas for a few more minutes of sleep from the two occupants that currently held residence in the four celled hallway. It never was.

Piercing yellow eyes opened, quickly adjusting to the abrupt light that flooded the cell. The owner of said eyes rose slowly from the lumpy cotwith silent movements. He barely noticed the frigid floor as his bare, two-toed feet made contact. His dark form made its way to the small, filthy sink in his cell, with the stench of mold coming from the underside where the pipes leaked. Nonetheless, he turned the knob and cupped his three-fingered hands under the stream of semi-clean water, forming a makeshift cup. Bringing the water to his dry lips he sloshed it in his mouth briefly before spitting it back in the sink and whipping the remnants of water away with the back of his fur covered wrist.

Being without the luxury of many of the most basic hygiene factors, he could not brush his teeth or even properly wash his hands. It was what some would call inhumane_._ He, however, paid it no mind, already used to the system that made up his life. Used to pushing his sorrows and fears into the back of his mind, to survive his captivity_._ He was 2-C73. And like all the others here, he was a captive. A mutant. Forced to participate in whatever the government higher-ups saw fit.

Depending on their powers and basics, such as age, body type, ect., the captives were separated into categories and ranks and then given schedules. The schedules then mostly included schooling, lab tests, and training drills in which they decided if you were useful enough to keep around or potentially work for the government.

If they were lucky, they got to stick around and just bear through the captivity as _a _mutant on observation. However, if they were unlucky, they were immediately killed or trained to take on government assignments. Although either way, they become a lab rat in the end. A sick toy, to bend and break and destroy.

The familiar sound of footsteps brought 2-C73 out of his unemotional stupor. Quickly he gathered himself in front of the steel bars, his spaided tail twitching behind him. In the cell across from him stood the only other captive of his sector. A small African boy only about nine years old that had been brought here in an underground mutant auction . The boy was given the code 9-K81 if he remembered correctly, after reading his brief report which hung on the clipboard at the entrance of the sector. From what he knew, the boy uncontrollably secreted an acidic liquid that burned through most materials when he had skin contact. 2-C73 had only seen it once when a guard had tried to take advantage of him. The guard had died before the smoke from burning flesh cleared. 2-C73 hadn't given it a second glance.

Like him, 9-K81 wore a plain, gray, sleeved shirt and long, gray pants. Of course with the addition of the metal collar that resided around all the captives' necks_._ A collar which had rubbed the fur and skin around his own neck raw. It was the one thing that kept all mutants from escaping this place. It was a tracking device that was monitored 24/7 and could issue one of three levels of electrical shocks to the wearer. The levels issued one of intense pain, unconsciousness, or instant death, in accordance with the disobedience.

Rules at the Mutant Compound were strict, but had many loopholes if you had good behavior. You usually weren't punished as long as you stayed within your sector, but the moment you stepped out, they knew, and you were punished.

2-C73 looked up as two groups of three guards each made their way in between the cells. They wore uniforms which bore various weapons at the sides, and they paused between the two occupied cells. The closest group faced him, and unlocked the cell, motioning for him to come out. 2-C73 stepped out, and followed as one guard started walking toward the entrance, the other two behind him for safety measures. 2-C73 stared blankly ahead, letting his body fall into the repetitive routine of walking as his mind wandered.

He hated his captivity. He always had, ever since they dragged his six year old body from his home. But he knew not to disobey. He had been here for ten long years and he had stopped trying to escape within the first. He couldn't then. Not with the collars and no support system. He still couldn't. And he wouldn't try. For now he would wait, as he has done through the years. Wait for an opportunity.

"Mutieren Ihr Esel dort! Sie verdammt wenig Kriechen!"(1) The German yell came from the guard behind him and immediately he realized they were standing outside the briefing room. He had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice. He did as instructed and went into the room, then stood before the Commanding Officer's desk, knowing that they had an assignment for him.

An assignment for him was normal. He had at least one every two weeks, usually only lasting a few hours each. The assignments were sometimes difficult and never enjoyable; however, they provided a view into the outside world, if only for a short time.

The man at the desk barked out an order to the guards and handed 2-C73 an envelope with details of what he was to do. As usual he followed standard procedure. He took it and then tailed the guards through the compound. Before each assignment he was given a short physical, a meal, a weapon (usually a knife) and new clothing that was suited for whatever he had to do. He would get away from the routine of drills, books, power tests, and the ever present cameras that watched your every move here. Although he would be far from unmonitored, seeing as he would be bugged and still wearing the ever-present collar.

As always, he was taken to Sector Seven's medic. They had gotten a new one a few months back that was far better than the last one. The current doctor never said a word or took a step out of line. He just treated you, and sent you on your way. Unlike the previous doctor who had roaming hands and always smelled of cocaine.

He sat himself down on the medical table, ever mindful not to sit on his tail. The medic arrived shortly, saying a brisk German greeting to the guards before starting the examination.

The poking and prodding from the doctor had only lasted about 50 minutes, or so the clock on the wall had said. The only thing left was for him to draw a sample of blood, which took longer than necessary because of 2-C73's blue pelt. With a small shove from the table by the ever generous guard, they were on their way again, heading toward the small cafeteria that served both Sector Seven and Sector Eight.

The small room with four tables was currently vacant, the others probably having already eaten while he was getting his physical. He quietly sat at the only table with any food placed on it, while the guards stood in the corners of the room. The food did not have much taste, but there was enough to satisfy him, even with his big appetite due to his high metabolism. Most of the mutants here were underweight, and he was no exception, but they fed him enough to do their bidding. Some didn't even have that luxury.

He finished his food and sat quietly for the rest of his forty-five minute lunch session, not paying attention to the quiet mutterings of the guards. They wouldn't bother him on an assignment day, and if they did, they would be in deep shit with the higher-ups.

2-C73 got up quickly when he was tapped on the shoulder with the tip of a gun barrel. He was then escorted again to the supply room. While there, a guard threw him all black clothing along with a belt and thigh pouch. Knowing he would get no privacy, he didn't bother with modesty. He changed quickly into the black material that pressed snuggly against his fur. The tight material insured that he would not be bothered by it getting in the way.

When he was fully clothed again the guards handed him a small knife, which he immediately strapped to his belt. He was also given ten small devices which he recognized as wireless microphones. He put them in the thigh pouch, knowing already that his assignment would entail setting the mics in various places. The guard handed him back the folder which had been held while he dressed.

As many guards sometimes did, they ordered him to report to hanger three, where a vehicle and operative will be there to take him to his assignments location. The collar on his neck ensured that he wouldn't go anywhere else, so they usually just told him to go on his own, knowing that he knew where it was. He didn't hesitate to follow the order, and using the familiar power of his mutation, he disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

He reappeared at his instructed destination. Hanger three wasn't very large and it was obvious as to which vehicle he would be taking. He walked over to the two figures standing by a black Chevy. He recognized the first as the woman who oversaw all his assignments, a strange American instructor by the name of Ada. The other, was one of the many drivers who escorted the captives to assignments.

Ada waved slightly and stepped aside, motioning him to get into the backseat with her, as the driver got in the front. He took his place on the left side of the car, not bothering with the seat belt as his instructor slide in next to him. Once they were inside, the driver started the car and made his way from the hanger. 2-C73 handed his folder to Ada, who took it wordlessly and began to look at its contents. Inside was the details of where he was to be, for how long, and doing what.

When she was done, she flipped through it one more time before turning to him and speaking in her native tongue. "Well you haven't had one like this in awhile." She spoke casually, almost friendly, unlike the guards whose only vocabulary seemed to be made up of the words "mutant, fucking, and bastard".

2-C73 gave her a blank look and waited for her to continue, the habit of keeping silent around the guards still in place. Even know she treated him with some respect, he was unsure of what he was and was not allowed to do in her presence. So he kept to the basics, and listened to her as she started to explain the details of what he was to do.

"You are to infiltrate an old factory that is suspected of housing terrorists. You are to place the mics you received earlier-" she paused to glance at his thigh pouch to make sure he had them. "In the areas designated." She took a blueprint map from the folder and handed it to him.

On it were marked several small red dots where he was to place the microphones. The building was large, and several green areas and paths on the map informed him of guarded or heavily used areas. This assignment would be difficult, and most likely take up a lot of time. He nodded to Ada, showing that he understood his objective.

"Thats not all though." He gave an inward sigh as she continued. "You are not to be seen by anyone. Stick to the shadows and take out anyone who spots you. If you blow your cover before you can install all the mics, then high tail it outta their. No reason to waste all that effort by loosing you too." She paused momentarily and pulled out another blueprint. This one showed all the ventilation and piping systems. Some of the pipes were kept in big enough areas for a small person to fit through. Being only 16 and highly flexible, it would be easy to move freely with the pipes. He could travel along them or stuff a body in with them if things got out of hand.

He nodded to her once again, then folded the maps and stuffed them in with the microphones. They remained in silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the moving vehicle. Then he felt it slow down, coming to a stop just inside a dark alley. Ada looked to him again and handed him a watch and another map to where the factory was located from their current position.

"You are to be done before midnight. When you have finished push the small blue button on the watch and hold it for thirty seconds and we will be notified to come pick you up from here." She paused again as he stood just outside the door of the car. Her face took on an emotion he thought similar to pity as she quietly said what she always did before every mission.

"Glück NachtKriechen." _(2)_

And with that he turned and headed deeper into the darkness of the alley, his dark fur blending into the shadows as he headed for the factory.

Ada had called him 'NachtKriechen'. His German codename that had been given to him when he first started going on assignments. The name fit, and now that was what he was mostly referred to as at the compound. The captives there hardly formed bonds, but everyone knew each others name or code out of respect, but never birth names.

Birth names were something that the government torn away from them upon arrival. Something that none of the captives could really say they had anymore. Getting lost with the numbers and letters of codes, some captives even forgot their given name.

2-C73 hadn't forgotten. But rather, he had lost himself. Lost himself in the blood and tears and became a different person. A boy that had hardened into a cold, pitiful young adult. He was different from the child that first arrived at the compound ten years ago. He was no longer a stranger to death and tears. No longer a small, innocent, misunderstood child.

That part of him had faded away long ago, retreating to the untouched recesses of his mind.

Instead he was the NachtKriechen.

The NightCrawler.

* * *

1-Get your ass in there mutant!You damn asshole!

2-Good Luck NightCrawler

NachtKriechen actually means night creep.....but it sounded better then all the others.

Sorry for the long wait and I hope you like this chapter.

And yes I know the German is a bit off, but oh well.

As you probably noticed, the rating has gone up.

And for good reason I might add.

REVIEW AND I WILL UPDATE FASTER!!!!!

Beta Note: Hey, I'm the beta, sorry for anything I might have missed – I was sort of scatterbrained when I read through the last half and I had kids crawling on me during the first half...but I thought this chap was great, and I hope u all enjoy. RR for my peep. :)

yaoi-shes way to proper and I think she is full of herself so dont listen to her!!!!

I know u will all love this chap


	3. Routine

**Title:**Silence

**Summary: **His blue body only stirred slightly as he was thrown onto the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years. Ten years that he would be the Governments lapdog. Ten years until he would gain back his freedom. AU

**Fiction Rated:** M

**Genre 1:** Angst

**Genre 2:** Adventure

**Status:** In-Progress

**Category**: Cartoons » X-Men: Evolution

**Character 1:** Nightcrawler

**Previously...-**

_2-C73 hadn't forgotten. But rather, he had lost himself. Lost himself in the blood and beatings and became a different person. A boy that had hardened into a cold, pitiful young adult. He was different from the child that first arrived at the compound ten years ago. He was no longer a stranger to death and tears. No longer a small, innocent, misunderstood child._

_That part of him had faded away long ago, retreating to the untouched recesses of his mind._

_Instead he was the NachtKriechen. _

_The NightCrawler._

**Chapter Two- **

The bold numbers of his digital watch read 9:30 PM, reminding NightCrawler just how much time he'd spent on this particular assignment. It wasn't that is was difficult or anything to install a microphone, but he had to wait for various rooms in the building to be left unattended which sometimes took hours at a time. The tedious mission had been tiring nonetheless .

He had been lucky though. No one had any hint that he was ever there. He had taken careful precautions not to alert anyone of his presence. If anyone _had _seen him then they would have to be killed as protocol demands.

NightCrawler was not unaccustomed to killing. Being in the situation that he was in, it was hard not to be. Throughout the years that he had been going on assignments, and even some time before then, he had been forced to murder.

When he was seven he had been put in a room full of armed men to test his mutant powers. That was the first time that he had ever taken a life, though he had not intended to. At age eight he found his ability to teleport during another test. At age ten he was given his first assignment and his codename.

From then on he had been given a variety of missions. Due to the various tests that had been done, the Compound thought it best to give him assignments that required stealth. His flexibility and dark fur made it easy for him to carry out assignments in the night.

Which was why he was now perched on a tall building next to the warehouse which he had previously been in. He was sitting on the corner, watching the oblivious pedestrians run to and fro from above. None of them noticed his figure that was vaguely outlined against the black city night.

The various bright lights of the city had been a skeptical to him when he had first been outside the compound. Now they were just a sort of luxury that he wished he had. He longed to be one of the many humans down below, living free and equally with one another. They didn't know what they had. What those inside the compounds were missing.

But he knew that if he tried to fight or escape right now, he may loose what he did have. A bad life is better than none at all. He had seen many of the older mutants become deranged and in turn continuously try to escape when they thought that all was lost. He had also seen their lifeless bodies be dragged back into the compounds to be disposed of. The irony was that even when you die, you end up right back where you started.

He hadn't given up just yet. But the brutal environment had broken him. He was usually obedient out of fear, but sometimes when emotions had built up he would snap. Sometimes he would break down in tears. Others, he would have violent outbursts. Either way, they were repetitive cycles that had, like so many other things, become routine.

Night Crawler's thoughts were interrupted when he heard an engine cut off in the alley below. He looked and saw the car that he had arrived in with Ada standing outside it. He saw her scan the rooftops in a vain attempt to pick him out from the darkness.

He disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared next to Ada, still in a crouched position. Ada gave a small jolt of surprise, but quickly righted herself when she saw that it was only Nightcrawler. He stood up properly and entered the car as she opened the door and motioned for him to enter.

Once they were both inside he felt the engine rumble to life as Ada turned to him, once again speaking in English.

"I take it everything went well?" He gave a curt nod in response. "Any casualties or unusual things you need to report?"

Again he only shook his head in a negative response. Ada sighed quietly and said no more. He couldn't tell what the sign was for. It could have been in relief in his success or in disappointment at his lack of words. His immature social skills often times left him baffled at others actions.

So he just leaned back in his seat and looked out the window for the rest of the trip.

* * *

When he arrived back at the compound Ada left to go file a report and he was once again met with an escort of guards. This time they took him to a large cement room with various shower heads coming out of the walls. There were no walls or curtains for privacy, only a large rack by the door with the same gray clothes that he wore since he got here. This was where the sectors got showers every three days, except on mission days. Every time the guards would stand by the door, watching closely.

As always, he was to get a shower then be escorted back to his cell. He quickly undressed himself, setting the assignment cloths in a separate bin. He went to the closest shower head and turned the sole knob on. Cold water rushed out in uneven streams, soaking into his fur. He stood there momentarily, letting the water soak him thoroughly before grabbing the used bar of soap to wash himself.

He lathered his fur quickly, trying to wash the various grime that had accumulated in his fur. Due to the rushing water and his concentration on his task, he did not here the echoing footsteps coming closer, though he should have expected it.

He felt something hard connect with the back of his head and the next thing he knew, he was on his side on the cold wet floor. His vision was blurry for a few seconds before it righted itself. He vaguely noticed the water being turned off before he felt another blow hit his stomach, this time from a boot.

He sputtered a cough out, tasting a bit of blood in his mouth. He felt a number of consecutive kicks in his stomach, and a few in his back and arms. He grit his teeth together in an effort to keep silent in the brutal attack. A foot then rolled him onto his back then stomp down on his shoulder. He felt another boot pin his writhing tail to the ground. He let out a small mewl as the pain shot through his sensitive tail.

He heard a German curse as the pressure on his shoulder increased. He opened his eyes, only to find them blurry with tears. He could only make out the silhouettes of his attackers but could vaguely tell that one was getting pulling something from their belt. It was a knife. He took a sharp intake of breath and watched as-

.

Everything went black for a split second.

.

His eyes had never closed but he was now facing a different direction, still lying on the floor. Yet now, even in his disoriented state, he could feel even more pain than before. In various more places then what he last remembered. Confusion hit him harder than the guards ever could and he lay there trying to regain his bearings.

He blinked a number of times before raising his head and looking towards the door. The guards were all there, now though they were talking amongst themselves joyously. He noticed most of them had flecks of blood on their uniforms which had not previously been there.

He blinked again, realizing what had just happened. He had just had a black out. He didn't remember the entirety of his torture, but he was sure that he would see the results for himself later. Blacking out was something that he had done before on occasion. It was the brains way of protecting the mind from insanity. A repression of memories to avoid total downfall from the inside.

He slowly picked himself up, noticing now that there were various spots on his body that blood was leaking out. His shoulder had a deep gash in it, along with several scraps running down his torso. He felt several bruises forming over his body, and he couldn't quite breath as well as before. Now he wheezed a bit. He also had blood running down his thighs from above. He grit his teeth as he attempted to block out the thought of what most likely happened. A small whine like noise passed from his lips in mortification.

He tried to take a step, but almost fell when his ankle gave out on him and pain shot into his stomach. He caught himself on the wall, panting a little from the exertion on his battered body. He avoided the looks that the guards gave him and turned the water on again.

This time he only stood there long enough to rinse the blood off, not wanting to linger again. The cold water stung as it collided with the gash on his shoulder, but he remained silent through the pain.

He finished quickly and limped slowly to the metal rack with his clothes on it, making sure to stick close to the wall. Still soaked, he turned his back to the guards and dressed slowly, trying to avoid agitating his injuries. It felt like hours before he was finished, but he had no real way to tell what time it was.

This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened. And NightCrawler was sure that it would not be the last. He felt somewhat glad that he did not remember it all this time.

Without waiting for an order from the guards, he ported back to sector seven. However as he stood there in the hall outside the cells he knew something had changed. The lights were dim, indicating that all prisoners should be asleep. But that wasn't what was wrong. The air of the room had changed dramatically.

He found his answer when he observed that the two previously unoccupied cells were now taken. Due to his mutation he could clearly in the darkness and make out the figures that were now dozing lightly on their cots, each with a metal collar like himself. They must have been newly acquired mutants.

The one in the cell adjacent to him was a girl in her mid teens. Her long brown hair fell down her back in waves and looked like it had previously been put up. He confirmed his assumptions when he spotted two hair ties on her wrist. She was already garbed in the gray uniform. He had a feeling she would take awhile to get accustomed to the way things worked here. Not to mention that she would be tainted by the guards within her first week. Probably after they tested her on her ability.

The other new occupant was in the cell diagonal from his. From what he could tell, it was a big mutant. Its body was covered in dark blue fur, much like his own. However, he did not have a tail, and had a much more ape-like build. NightCrawler also noticed the monkey-like feet. The man seemed older and had the look of a wise caretaker. NightCrawler wondered if they had been captured together.

His curiosity won out over his fatigue and he limped slowly to where their files were hanging on the wall by the door. He ignored his aching body as he took down the two clipboards with various papers on them.

He read them slowly, absorbing the informatoin

.

.

.

Code: 5-M24

Gender:Male

Date Obtained: 9/21/05

Capture Information: Donated by anonymous group.

Mutant Body: Type 5

Known Mutation: Blue fur covers body. Ape like build. Enhanced strength.

Language: English

Test 1: 9/23/05

.

The other one read.

.

Code: 5-M25

Gender:Female

Date Obtained: 9/21/05

Capture Information: Donated by anonymous group.

Mutant Body: Type 1

Known Mutation: Phase through solid objects.

Language: English

Test 1: 9/23/05

.

They had apparently already tried to escape, seeing as how their mutant ability information was already filled out. What was even more interesting was the obtained information and the language information. When the Compounds participate in mutant slave trades they often put down "donated by anonymous group" to pass it off as legal. Many mutants came in that way. Mostly from free countries as well. Certain groups and organizations captures mutants and sells them for high prices in restricted countries.

NightCrawler glanced again at their sleeping forms. Now there was no question about it. They would have a hard time adjusting. Just like all the others that came from free countries did. He sighed as he looked at them with pity. There would now be a lot more happenings in sector seven. He prayed they were not given the same treatment as he was just given not to long ago.

With that thought in mind he ported once again, this time to his bed. He didn't have to wait for sleep to whisk him away. This time it consumed him eagerly.

* * *

Hope you guys like this chap. Its much darker than the others.

Tell me what you think.

Oh and sorry for the long wait. My bad .


	4. Miscommunication

**Title:**Silence

**Summary: **His blue body only stirred slightly as he was thrown onto the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years. Ten years that he would be the Governments lapdog. Ten years until he would gain back his freedom. AU

**Fiction Rated:** M

**Genre 1:** Angst

**Genre 2:** Adventure

**Status:** In-Progress

**Category**: Cartoons » X-Men: Evolution

**Main Character 1:** Nightcrawler

* * *

**Previously...-**

_However as he stood there in the hall outside the cells he knew something had changed. The lights were dim, indicating that all prisoners should be asleep. But that wasn't what was wrong. The air of the room had changed dramatically._

_He found his answer when he observed that the two previously unoccupied cells were now taken. Due to his mutation he could clearly in the darkness and make out the figures that were now dozing lightly on their cots, each with a metal collar like himself. They must have been newly acquired mutants. _

_NightCrawler glanced again at their sleeping forms. Now there was no question about it. They would have a hard time adjusting. Just like all the others that came from free countries did. He sighed as he looked at them with pity. There would now be a lot more happenings in sector seven. He prayed they were not given the same treatment as he was just given not to long ago._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 3**

As usual, NightCrawler awoke to the dramatic change in brightness that took place every morning in the Compound. The dull ache of his body did not make the transition from sleep any easier. His clothes and most of his cot were now damp from him not properly drying before bed and now he was chilled.

He shivered slightly before he sat up. There was now dry blood spots that had seeped through his clothes in various places. The most was on his shoulder where the gash was. He could feel his fur stiff at the places where the blood had matted through it. The only thing that seemed to had gotten better over night was his ankle, but he would still have a bit of a limp.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a groan coming from the cell adjacent to him. He jerked slightly in surprise. Confusion hit him until he remembered the two new occupants from the night before. His eyes glanced over to the cell diagonal from him to see that the male was also coming to. He was rubbing his head and stood up shakily. They had probably both been tranquilized last night.

"Uhhg. I feel like I just got run over by the Blob."

NightCrawler heard the groggy female say. He didn't quite understand what she meant though. Maybe it was just American lingo. If she was still talking by the time the guards got here though, she would be yelled at. He silently got up and went about his morning routine, listening in on the oblivious duo.

"Kitty, that you? Are you alright?" The blue ape-like male said as he walked to the bars on his cell trying to get a better look. He seemed more aware now that he had heard the girl talk.

"Dr. McCoy? What happened? Where are we?" A small amount of panic had set into her voice. NightCrawler heard her grab the bars of her cell.

"Those people that captured us were mutant traders. We were probably sold. We could be anywhere by now." He paused momentarily to look around. His eyes roamed past the room, looking for something that could be useful. He did not see NightCrawler, but instead found the clipboards on the wall near the door.

"Kitty, do you think you could phase through your cell and get me one of those clipboards? They may give us a hint of where we are. But be careful. We don't want to aggravate whoever runs this place."

"Um, sure thing. Like, piece of cake right?" The girl said, seemingly more calm now that the elder had spoken but still obviously nervous. Nightcrawler watched unnoticed from the shadows as she came into view. Apparently the papers had been right about her power. Nightcrawler Watched as she walked over to the clipboards, quickly grabbed one (the African boys), and brought it to the ape-man.

She stood there silently as he tried to decipher it. He flipped through the pages momentarily before handing it back to her. As she was putting it back, he explained what he had found.

"Its all in German. I can only understand a little of it, but I think this is a testing faculty." He said slowly, as the girl moved back to stand outside his cell.

"Isn't Germany, like, a restricted country or something? Even if we do get out of here, we can't go far without someone reporting us. And we have no money or passports or anything. We aren't even in our normal clothes!" NightCrawler felt a pang of pity for her as she realized what exactly kind of country they were in.

"Yes, thats also true. And I don't think these collars are for show either. We may not want to draw attention to ourselves until we know more." His voice lowered significantly now, and Nightcrawler had to strain to hear him. "We may just have to wait it out until the professor can find us with Cerebro."

Night Crawler's eyes widened at this. He wondered if the professor they spoke of would really risk finding them. If he was caught in the process then he would most likely be executed. Did they really believe that one man would risk his life to save the two of them?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the metal door lurch open, fallowed by the sound of footsteps. He watched as the girl gave a short sound of surprise before running back to her cell where she disappeared from his view. He saw a scowl appear on one of the four guards faces. He was probably annoyed at having to deal with new arrivals.

Today there would be no assignments, he knew for sure. He had just gone on one and was in no condition to go on another, as he was sure had been reported, and he knew that the African mutant still had not gone on one.

So that meant they would fall back into the routine, with the exception of the changes from the arrivals. They would eat with Sector Eight, and be taken of to individual areas for their specific schedules. The two new ones would probably have tests to determine their intelligence, blood type, medical problems, etc.

NightCrawler would most likely have to deal with his various injuries for awhile longer. As well as his damp, stained clothes. He shivered again at the thought of staying in them another night.

Each guard went to unlock one of the four cells. Only then did the new occupants seem to notice that they were not alone. He heard two sharp gasps, that he tried his best to ignore. Nightcrawler limped out slower than normal, keeping his eyes from straying over to the others. The African boy seemed to be doing the same. It was silent as the guards motioned for them to start moving. However, the silence was broken by Dr. McCoy.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if-" He was cut off by a rough German order directed at him from the guard who unlocked him. His face contorted in confusion as he just looked at the guard. He tried again.

" I don't und-"He was cut off again by the same German order. Except this time a gun was pointed at his head. At once he froze and stood silently, until they motioned for him to move again while hissing German curses.

This time he complied wordlessly, but he did put his finger to his lips to tell Kitty not to speak. She nodded fearfully in return and kept her usually loud mouth shut. Nightcrawler kept quiet and fallowed the two guards in front of the four of them. He felt uneasy glances aimed at him, but ignored them the best he could.

He could scarcely imagine what it was like for them. For any of the newcomers. To be taken from their homes, so happy and carefree, and then tossed into this hell hole. He had forgotten most of his life before this place, along with some of the first memories of it. The faces of his guardians ( he couldn't remember if they had been his real parents or not) had long been lost to him.

His musing stopped when they reached the sector 7/8 cafeteria. When the metal door was opened he saw that the other sector was already there eating. He saw the three of them give wary glances at the newcomers before returning to their meals. He seated himself slowly, as not to agitate his wounds, and started at his meal. Nightcrawler carefully watched from beneath his bangs as the newcomers took seats at one of the empty tables, and the African boy sat across from him.

It was silent in the room other than the chewing and clinking of dingy dishes. Nightcrawler focused his attention solely on his meal, as per routine. He ate quickly, seeing as how they only had about twenty minutes total to eat.

However, his attention was ripped away from his food when he heard hushed whispers from the newcomers table. He couldn't make out the words, or even the tone of voice. He tensed. From underneath his bangs he saw the African boy do the same.

Shouldn't they have already learned not to speak here from the incident in the cells? Were they stupid, reckless, or both? Nightcrawler's tail twitched violently from his sudden agitation. He slowly took a deep painful breath(more like wheeze) and calmed himself, letting his tail curl and uncurl around his leg. He could not blame them for their ignorance.

As expected, Nightcrawler heard a shout from one of the guards, as he stomped over the the newcomers tables. Nightcrawler and the other captives remained seated and silent as they heard the guard shout German obscenities at them, all the while waving his gun about like a madman.

"Sorry we didn't -" the blue furred man was cut off by a quick hit from the but of the gun. The mutant swayed in his seat a moment before carefully cradling his head in his hands. The guard gave a final warning, and proceeded to spit directly on the teacher before walking back to his post.

The student and doctor sat there and stared in shock and anger at the retreating guard.

Nightcrawler wanted to snort at their disbelief, but kept himself quiet. As did the other mutants. Often times the new prisoners would act out when they first got here. He was just glad that they had refrained from lashing out at anyone.

Well, as of yet at least.

* * *

Sorry its so short after such a long wait. Hope you like it. Oh and yes reviewing does help. It was a review that motivated me to write this chapter.

Oh and it has not been looked over by my beta yet, so sorry for any mistakes or what not.

Now that I've started writing this again, I will probly continue with the next chap up shortly, but no guarantees.

Oh and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!!!!


	5. Uncontrolable

**Title:**Silence

**Summary: **His blue body only stirred slightly as he was thrown onto the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years. Ten years that he would be the Governments lapdog. Ten years until he would gain back his freedom. AU

**Fiction Rated:** M

**Genre 1:** Angst

**Genre 2:** Adventure

**Status:** In-Progress

**Category**: Cartoons » X-Men: Evolution

**Main Character 1:** Nightcrawler

* * *

**Previously...-**

_The student and doctor sat there and stared in shock and anger at the retreating guard. _

_Nightcrawler wanted to snort at their disbelief, but kept himself quiet. As did the other mutants. Often times the new prisoners would act out when they first got here. He was just glad that they had refrained from lashing out at anyone._

_Well, as of yet at least._

* * *

**FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I UPDATED!!!**

Nightcrawler hadn't seen the two new prisoners since the breakfast scene. Apparently they weren't in any on his 'extracurricular activities'. Then again, the first few days for any prisoner were just to learn their new basics on what is 'right' and 'wrong'. They probably didn't even have their full schedule yet. Nightcrawler wished he had that luxury. Sitting in a room learning basic 7th grade mathematics got old after a few years. He didn't really like math, but it was easy enough once you got older and they stop teaching new things.

But his math class had already come and gone. Now he was in Physical Fitness, which all mutants who went on assignments must have. Physical Fitness was broken down into two groups per day that switched periodically. The 'fighting' group, and the 'workout' group'. Nightcrawler didn't mind working out. It wore him out in a good way that let him fall right to sleep, as it was his last activity of the day. Fighting, however, he detested.

When in the fighting group, you were put in a room with either other mutants, or armed men and told to go wild. Battles against armed men were less common, but much more brutal and disturbing. They were used to punish guards who have stepped out of line one to many times. Even armed they never stand a chance. Nightcrawler found that killing or seriously injuring them was the most effective was to leave the fight with only a few bullet holes. And while he didn't like it, it was a necessary constant.

So that was why Nightcrawler had been relieved when he had been led to a bare concrete room with another mutant. Killing another prisoner was forbidden, so these fights were usually just some injuries. Mutants could also defend themselves better and even if it didn't feel right to attack one of his own, at least they would not have to die by his hands. Though he wasn't looking forward to agitating his wounded shoulder.

His opponent for the day was mutant 2D-012. She was a small skittish girl, who was barely ten. Fur covered her in odd places that accented her cat-like features. Her hands were slightly webbed, with each finger ending in a deadly claw and her she walked haunched on only her toes, much like Nightcrawler did. Nightcrawler had never fought her before, and he doubted it would be hard to beat her. He had experience where she had none.

They stood on opposite sides of the room as the guards gave the command to fight. The girl made no move to attack, yet Nightcrawler could see her body tremble, and her wild green eyes well up with unshed tears. He felt pity well up in his stomach and wrench his gut painfully. He had once been in her place. He had been the one with eyes full of animalistic panic.

He shook his head mournfully before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke. It was painful with his sore body, but he grit his teeth and kept going. He reappeared behind her and tackled her to the ground. They hit the ground hard, her taking most of the force, and he heard her yelp. He moved his body so that he could pin her down, but she twisted in his grip and sunk her tiny little fangs into his wounded shoulder. Smart girl.

Nightcrawler grunted from pain as he felt more blood well up and leek out from around her mouth. She kicked her feet blindly into his stomach and tried to buck him off of her. He felt her claws did into the blue fur of his bruised belly but not enough to draw blood. He pressed his weight down to hers and brought his balled fist down onto the top of her furry head.

He heard her yelp again and they rolled away from each other. Nightcrawler teleported as he regained his balance and appeared beside her scrambling form on the floor. Her mentally apologized to her before he grabbed a fist full of her hair and slammed her head off the ground. He felt her jerk and then a pause, before she started struggling again, this time much weaker. He snapped his eyes shut in pity and self disgust before slamming her head again.

She stayed still. Her breathing was low and shallow but it was there with a strong heartbeat. He opened his eyes but did not look down at her. He didn't want to see her face drenched with the sticky blood that he could smell coming off of her. He grabbed his own bleeding shoulder and dug his nails in painfully. He hissed under his breath before easing up on the pressure of his self punishment.

He stood silently in the corner as the guards took care of the other prisoner. They moved her unconscious body from the room and dumped a bucket of cold water upon the stone floor. The blood mixed and settled with it before swirling towards the single drain in the middle of the floor.

His shoulder had stopped bleeding, but now it was wet and slick with chunks of already dried blood intermixed in his fur. The feeling was sickening and made him nauseous. His body was sore and tired from the long day and all he wanted to do was curl up to sleep.

He jumped slightly when a brisk yell of 'Get lost, boy!' was aimed at him from one of the guards. Nightcrawler mentally scoffed at the thought of their joy to have him as a charge. All they had to do was say the word and they got off work just a little bit earlier. Filthy bastards. He snorted in disgust before teleporting back to his sector.

Just as he appeared he felt their presence, and it set him on edge. It would take awhile to get used to these new residents. The African boy was sitting silently at the end of his cell, not startled at all by his sudden arrival. He glanced at the ape like one(the only one he could see from within his cell), and sure enough he was staring at him from within his cell. His eyes full of confusion and pity all at the same time. The man looked worn out but curious of Nightcrawler. The sound of his teleport must have alerted them to his arrival, because the girl wasn't yet aware of him.

"What was that? Whats over there Mr. McCoy?" The girls voice rang out in a higher than normal pitch. She was nervous. Nightcrawler turned away from the others and proceeded to remove his shirt to clean the sickening mix of wet and dried blood from his shoulder. All the while, listening to their conversation.

"It's just the other mutant Kitty. Nothing to worry about." The blue furred man replied to the girl before turning back to watch him. Nightcrawler could feel his gaze upon him as he scooped up water from the dingy sink and poured it over the wound, It was crude, but it was effective.

"Hey, are you alright? That gash doesn't look so good." The man was trying to talk with him. Nightcrawler pretended not to hear and kept his back turned. He ran his three fingers through his fur, pulling out chunks of now gooey blood.

The man continued on. "You probably even don't understand me, do you? Hey! Kid! I'm trying to talk to you. I know you can hear me." His voice was worried, but laced with a gentle humor as if talking to a child. Nightcrawler once again ignored him. It wouldn't be wise to encourage interaction that could later get him punished.

"Mr. McCoy, is he that, like, creepy furry guy from this morning? He looked like he was about to drop dead on the spot earlier." Nightcrawler furrowed his brows. Did that girl expect any favors? Her blunt rudeness could get her killed if said to the wrong person. Guard and mutant alike.

"Kitty, you know you shouldn't be so harsh. He's probly had it rough just like us, ok?" Rough? They were barely here a day and they thought they had it rough. What naive fools. It only got worse the longer you stayed. Nightcrawler knew that, and so did the boy across from him. They would learn in time as well.

"Well its true right? Besides it seems like no one can understand a single word we say so it doesn't matter anyway." Frustration was laced through her words. They didn't yet know it, but many of the guards and mutants in the compound knew and spoke English fluently. He did. And he knew that the small boy across from him knew a little bit of it too. It was just not common to practice to talk in a place like this. It was an endless cycle of silence from the moment you get thrown into a cell. Those already there would not speak to you. So in turn, you learn not to speak to newcomers. And soon, everyone stops speaking.

Nightcrawler heard him sigh and mumble something under his breath, before addressing him again. "Hey kid, if you want I can take a look at that wound of yours. I'm a doctor, and I only understand a little German, but I can at least help a bit. So what do you say?" He sounded sincere, which threw Nightcrawler for a loop. Unless of course, he was lying. Was he trying to trick him? He didn't seem threatening. He didn't even seem capable of violence. The ape like man more or less reminded him of a teddy bear.

Nightcrawler shook his head to clear his thoughts as he turned off the water. He dabbed his shirt over his shoulder to soak up some of the water. He glanced up, and saw the boy across from him watching curiously with a small smile on his face. His gaze drifted to the self proclaimed doctor, who was also watching him intently. The mans eyes pleaded for a response of any kind, and he had no doubt that the girl was also listening intently.

The man started again, this time his voice full of disappointment. "Well,at least I-"

"Quiet." Something in him snapped and Nightcrawler's voice spoke on its own accord. It was soft and somewhat scratchy from disuse. The man jumped and the boy across from him looked startled. Nightcrawler too was startled. He hadn't meant to say it. It just slipped out. He looked away from the others and settled his gaze on the floor. Nightcrawler quickly turned his back to them and sat upon his cot facing the wall. His heart was beating wildly and his breathing was shallow.

He had just repeated what had been beaten into him. He felt light headed and frightened and confused. His tail wrapped and swayed itself around him. His bangs fell into his face and he gripped his jaw shut so as not to let himself utter another sound.

* * *

Not likeing how this chap turned out, but apparently I was killing someone by not updating so I decided to go ahead and post. Lol Thats right. I'm talking to you ed azalea.

Merry Christmas

Un beta-ed. Because my beta ditched me to go watch criminal minds. -___-


	6. Preservation

**Title:**Silence

**Summary:**His blue body only stirred slightly as he was thrown onto the lumpy cot of his new cell. A cell that would be home to him for the next ten years. Ten years that he would be the Governments lapdog. Ten years until he would gain back his freedom. AU

**Fiction Rated:** M

**Genre 1:** Angst

**Genre 2:** Adventure

**Status:** In-Progress

**Category**: Cartoons » X-Men: Evolution

**Main Character 1:** Nightcrawler

******WARNING****WARNING****WARNING****WARNING****WARNING**WARNING! This Chapter contains a lot of gore. Also more mentions of rape.

* * *

**Previously…**

"Quiet." Something in him snapped and Nightcrawler's voice spoke on its own accord. It was soft and somewhat scratchy from disuse. The man jumped and the boy across from him looked startled. Nightcrawler too was startled. He hadn't meant to say it. It just slipped out. He looked away from the others and settled his gaze on the floor. Nightcrawler quickly turned his back to them and sat upon his cot facing the wall. His heart was beating wildly and his breathing was shallow.

He had just repeated what had been beaten into him. He felt light headed and frightened and confused. His tail wrapped and swayed itself around him. His bangs fell into his face and he gripped his jaw shut so as not to let himself utter another sound.

* * *

The next morning the lights turned on exactly on time and Nightcrawler's dim painful life moved on as it always had. His actions, his _words_, from last night had echoed through his mind even in the darkness of sleep. It had disturbed him to the point that he knew not when he passed into slumber the night before.

Now though, in the early morning that resembled all the others, the event seemed far away. As if it was only a wisp of a memory to be tucked with all the other atrocities within his mind. It was muted.

Just as the day before, he heard both the new arrivals groan as the light reached their sensitive eyes.

"Ugh, why in the world do they wake us up so _early_!" The girl said, sleep still slurring her words even through her frustration. He listened as she got out of her cot and shuffled towards the bars. The ape man did the same, though with only a yawn of protest. Nightcrawler and the African boy were already standing in their respective cells.

"Is there really a reason for anything that goes on in this place?" The doctor asked as he rubbed the sleep from his face. His eyes drifted towards Nightcrawler's cell, no doubt wondering why the younger furred mutant hadn't responded the night before other than with a single word.

The door to their sector opened and their guards came in. They were let out, and this time neither of the newcomers said anything. That was good, Nightcrawler thought. They had learned their lesson quickly enough. Hopefully it would stick with them.

Down the hall they went, but instead of the cafeteria the guards took them to the measly shower room. The guards stood against the wall and barked orders. It was fortunate that neither of the Americans could speak German to understand the perverse and demeaning remarks that were aimed towards them. Immediately Nightcrawler and the young boy started to undress themselves. The other two didn't seem to get the idea quite so easily.

"They, like, don't really expect me to shower with guys do they?" Kitty whispered to her teacher in horror. Dr. McCoy gave her a look of pity and sorrow.

"I'm so sorry Kitty, but right now I don't think we have much of a choice in the matter." The older man's face was a mixture of frustration and shame. He set his large hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "Just try to get it over with as quick as you can. I promise I won't look."

That seemed to be final because then he turned his back to her and started to undress himself. The girl turned away as well, tears of mortification threatening to spill from her eyes.

They each turned to opposite ends of the room and proceeded to turn on the water. Nightcrawler heard the girl squeak when the cold liquid poured onto her head. If he were to look over he was sure he would see her tears mixing with the icy water. He had cried in his first shower session too.

The blue furred boy grit his teeth and shook off the concern for these newcomers. It would do him no good to spend his time worrying about anyone other than himself. He had enough on his injured shoulders as it was.

They each continued on cleaning themselves. The sound of water splashing against the stone floor was rhythmic and relaxing. Nightcrawler's shoulder was still sore, but the gash didn't ache as bad as it had the previous night. His limp was still present but he could feel that slowly fading too.

Now all that he could feel was water running through his fur in rivulets. Though cold it was mystifying. Time didn't exist, and neither did his hellish life. Everything just was. Sometimes he wished he could swim again. Swimming was amazing and not something he got to do often unless it was necessary for an assignment. The weightlessness and the silence of being submerged was breathtaking. It wasn't a forced quiet. It was naturally distorted and muted.

It was like the peaceful freedom that he longed for.

The showers were as close as he could get to that. So he would salvage whatever he could of it. He would bask in the sound and feel of it, no matter how much it made him shiver.

But the peacefulness was broken. Boots were stepping against the stone of the floor. It was almost silent, yet to Nightcrawler it was as loud as a gunshot. He turned his head, eyes searching for the source.

Two of the guards were stepping forward; for once their eyes were not intent on him. Instead they were leering at the only female in the room , their eyes wild with mirth and lust. Nightcrawler knew what they wanted. He knew what they would do and how she would be powerless to stop it. Oh yes, she could delay her tormentors, but eventually they would win. They always did.

Nightcrawler remembered the first time they advanced on him. How he had been so very tiny and there had been copious amounts of blood. He remembered how he had been in a terrified agony for several hours afterward. How the others had glanced to make sure the guards were not after them before turning back to their own business. How he had screamed for their help, and had received none.

So as they grew closer Nightcrawler turned his back to the scene.

The first sound was of a startled shriek and it gained the attention of all the occupants in the room. Nightcrawler grit his teeth and scrubbed at the dirt on his body in short, rigid strokes.

"Kitty!" He heard the other roar out, anger and worry laced through his voice. Nightcrawler heard the safety being removed from a gun and glanced over to see the other two guards with their weapons pointed towards the ape like man. He snarled and dove towards his young student anyway.

The gunshots were loud and echoed through the stone room. He heard them squelch as they hit the man's flesh. His body landed with a thud. Red ran with the water still pouring from the showerheads and Nightcrawler heard the girl scream.

He could hear her struggle against them, and their exclamations when her fists landed true. She was weeping openly now in terror. He couldn't tell if it was for herself or for her fallen comrade.

"HELP!" She shrieked and suddenly it wasn't her he was hearing but himself. His tiny three fingers scratching wildly at malicious faces as men pinned him easily. His mouth open wide in soundless screams when his voice had given out on him. His body lying on the cold, wet floor until they finally decided to drag him to his cell hours later. His golden eyes dead as he assessed the damage in the mirror.

Before he could wonder if it would be the same for this girl he was already in motion. He teleported in front of the man trying to pin the girl and dug his claws into his arms viciously. With another poof of smoke they were in the air, high above the compound. Nightcrawler had the satisfaction of seeing the look of horror on the guards face as he was dropped before he teleported back. The girls other assailant was just now realizing what had happened when he returned.

The man tried to bring his gun up and spit out German curses. The furred boy wrapped his tail around the man and was gone in another poof of smoke. This time though he only went a meme five feet. He stood next to the wall which now had the disfigured, bloody mass inside of it that used to be the man's upper body. Bones and flesh stuck out of the concrete in a gory mess. Nightcrawler turned towards the other two. One was fumbling with the collar remote, while the other was squeezing the trigger of his gun down.

The bullets never hit, but instead only met black wisps of smoke as he teleported again. He appeared behind the one with the remote and snatched it with his tail as he rammed his thumbs into the guard's eye sockets. He felt the eyes squish as he used his momentum to barrel the man over and drive his thumbs deeper. The guard screamed in pain and terror as his hands rushed up to his face. Nightcrawler growled menacingly as the only remaining guard turned his gun towards him.

Blood splattered as bullets poured from the weapon. Yet they only hit the pink flesh of his comrade as smoke once again filled the spot the young mutant had been in. The screaming stopped as the guard on the ground convulsed and choked on his own blood. The other looked down at his partner in astonishment and fear.

Behind him a three fingered hand pulled a fallen pistol off the floor. A moment later the final guard was dead on the floor, a single bullet in his head.

Nightcrawler dropped the weapons and turned back to the girl, curled up in the fetal position on the floor. Water still sprayed over her, washing away the gore. Her frame shook with sobs as she hugged herself. Pity washed through him and he slowly walked over towards the entrance and grabbed clean clothing from the racks. Near it stood the African boy, who looked upon the scene with worried astonishment.

Nightcrawler hurried back to the girl and shut off the showers around her. Then he pushed the articles of clothing into her hands and turned away to give her privacy. He heard her crawl up the wall to stand, sobs and squeaks still escaping her mouth.

He turned toward the other furred man and went to him. He turned the man over and assessed the damage. He had one wound to his chest and another to his shoulder. Nightcrawler bent down and laid his ear on the man's broad chest.

His heart beat was there, but it was very faint. Nightcrawler had no doubt that he would die if he didn't receive medical attention.

Movement towards his left startled him. The small black boy was as his side, fully dressed and with more clothing in his tiny arms. He handed a bundle to Nightcrawler and then set a towel over the man's groin to preserve at least some of his dignity.

Nightcrawler nodded in thanks and got dressed quickly. When he was done he bent down and reached for the doctor. Before his hand could make contact, he felt a tug on his sleeve. The girl was next to him, her eyes puffy and her body shaking from adrenaline and fear. It was a sad sight and Nightcrawler realized he couldn't regret this decision even if he wanted too. He had done the right thing, even if it would probably cost him his life in just a short amount of time.

"Please…Please help him." The girl whispered, her voice meek and tiny, filled with everything that his had at one point. The fear, the helplessness, the weakness. It was captivating and since he had come this far, he might as well add more fuel to the fire. He nodded in compliance and reached out once more for the injured man. At the same time he wrapped his tail around the African boy and grabbed the girls hand.

Then they were all gone in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

AN- Yea so I got a review recently that inspired me to write another chapter. Oh and X Men First Class also helped. If you haven't seen it yet, GO SEE IT!

Also sorry if I scared any of you with this chapter. I did put a warning though. Anyway, just so you know the African boy IS NOT Evan. Just sayin. Oh and also, don't get your hopes up. I know this ending seems like they escaped but just a heads up, they didn't.

Also, not beta-ed.

Oh and anyone reading my other fanfiction, It Started With X-Ray Vision, that will also be updated soon I hope. I wanted to get this update done first though because it kinda has been neglected alot.


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